holiday picspam
Oct. 1st, 2017 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
llywelaSo I was off on my holidays the week before last – a big family excursion up to Yorkshire, where my older sister and her husband are now living. They only moved a couple of months ago – Ray has been ordained as a minister in the Methodist church and this is his first placement. It's a massive change for them, going from the London commuter belt to a teeny tiny rural town just outside Halifax up in the Yorkshire dales.
The removal company they used, by the way, were horrifically awful, in case anyone else out there ever considers using them – Orange Movers supposedly transport goods for Sotherby's, but on this performance it's hard to see how. They either lost or damaged about £4k worth of furniture and belongings, some of the items completely irreplaceable! Horrendous performance. The claim against them is still going through.
But back to the holiday. It being such an upheaval, and Deb being so concerned about moving even further away than she already was, we decided as a family to go up and visit them in their new home for the next five years – the house we booked for the week was in the village of Golcar near Huddersfield, about half an hour away from Deb and Ray's new place: close enough to do stuff together, but far enough away not to be on top of them.
South Wales to West Yorkshire? It's quite a journey, 224 miles. We travelled all day on the Friday, arriving around teatime, whereupon Deb and Ray descended upon us with food. The house we'd rented was gorgeous, sitting high on the hillside with this view across the valley:
That was the view from the garden – complete with comfy outside seating area for late night lounging. This is the view from the attic dormer window:
Not a bad view to wake up to, no?
It was a pretty low-key holiday, by our standards – we didn't do half as much sightseeing as we normally do, for a variety of reasons to do with weather and toddler and dog and fitting in around Deb and Ray's schedule, to spend as much time with them as their work would allow. On the Saturday we visited their new home at the manse, which is lovely…but very Rural Small Town. By 4.30pm everything in town was already closed, which us city folk are just not used to at all! We found a nice little park to walk around, though. On the Sunday morning we went to a service at Ray's new church, to see him in action as minister for the first time, and then afterward…it all kind of got a bit late to do much else, because Deb had promised us Sunday lunch at her place, changed her mind at the last minute and decided to bring it to us because we had a bigger house, got delayed, arrived very late with the meal only half prepared…and by the time we'd eaten, that was pretty much the day gone.
A group of us did, however, make it out of the house late in the afternoon to visit Blackmoorfoot Reservoir across the other side of the valley, which was really pretty:
Although the walk did involve crossing a little bridge, which is always a slight problem because little dog Ruby really hates bridges – this is her refusing to put so much as a toe on the bridge.
She has to be picked up and carried across, silly thing!
More pretty reservoir pics
The Monday was…a bit of an odd one. It started with Deb trying to find a way for her and Ray to spend time with us, which was fair enough. His church, she told us, runs a little café once a month – they get food donated by big supermarkets, end of shelf life, so the menu is always made up of whatever they are given, usually a lot of soup and toasties, but the prices are low and the company good, so if we came to the church for lunch, she and Ray would be able to come out with us for the afternoon afterward. That sounded reasonable. Then she suggested going for a walk at a waterfall they'd discovered – dog-friendly, pushchair friendly, it sounded good. But we had three cars, so needed to make sure of the destination.
What's the post code, I asked. "Oh, just google Aysgarth Falls," said Deb. She spelled the name for me, and everything. Ray had a leaflet, but there was no post code on it. "It's the Grassington Trail," he said. So, Aysgarth Falls, Grassington Trail. That sounded fair enough, lots of National Park destinations have multiple car parks and routes. We googled Aysgarth Falls, got the post code, set off…but the ETA was concerning me, it seemed a lot further than Deb had said. So I texted my mum in their car – and was reassured that they had the same ETA. Deb had just got confused about the distance, we thought. It seemed to take ages to get anywhere in Yorkshire because it's so rural and hilly – lots of narrow winding roads and hairpin bends with only a crumbling dry stone wall between you and a sheer drop – and, you know, we're used to hills and mountains in South Wales, but our roads seem slightly more easily navigable!
We arrived at Aysgarth Falls. Mum and Dad's car arrived at Aysgarth Falls. No sign of Deb and Ray. Yes, you guessed it: Aysgarth Falls and Grassington Trail = two completely different places. Thanks for the mixed messages and vague directions, Deb and Ray! So now everyone was tired and cross, and we had to hang around the shop and coffee shop until Deb and Ray eventually reached us – which was pretty much as the shop and coffee shop closed and rain was beginning to threaten, after a more or less dry day.
But after this chapter of accidents, we did manage to spend a bit of time exploring the waterfalls, and Layla-May got to splash in a stream, which is her favourite thing in the world.
On Tuesday we split into two groups – some stayed at home, while a group of us headed to Alton Towers for the day. A bit of a long drive, but much easier to get to from Golcar than Cardiff! We drove pretty much right through the heart of the Peak District National Park, which is stunning. This was the view along the road:
Glorious.
At Alton Towers, we spent most of the day in Cbeebies Land, where Layla-May had pretty much the most exciting and magical day of her life to date. She got to drive Postman Pat's van – really, Postman Pat's van! (Her words) That was the highlight of her holiday. She also rode in Iggle-Piggle's boat through the Night Garden, visited Mr Tumble's sensory garden, and met both Tree-Fu Tom and Duggee.
(I realise that most of the above paragraph is so much gibberish to anyone who doesn't follow children's TV, just go with it)
Later, while Layla was napping, Ian and Chelsea went off to squeeze in a few of the big rides while Mum and I wandered around the gardens with the pushchair (at least, part of the gardens - most of them not very pushchair friendly!)
On the Wednesday, we realised just how hard it is to find things to do in the West Yorkshire area that are both dog-friendly and pushchair friendly, don't involve hiking across dales and moors in bad weather, and are less than a two-hour drive to reach! Seriously. If you are looking for a nice rural, remote getaway that is miles from anywhere, Golcar in West Yorkshire is the place to go!
Anyway, we eventually settled on Hardcastle Crags, a National Trust site including a mill and café.
The café and mill describe themselves as 'off-grid', so everything was a bit…rustic, shall we say, but the place was beautiful, well worth the visit. Not quite as pushchair friendly as advertised, but we managed. The footpath up from the car park was beautifully pushchair friendly – although Layla-May walked that section – and then after lunch at the café, we decided to wander further up-river to see how far we could get with the pushchair. The answer was: not far! But we did find more waterfalls:
Then after a certain point, the pushchair could go no further:
So we split into two groups: some stayed on the lower trail with the pushchair, while some of us continued on up the trail, which was absolutely gorgeous - I make no apology for the number of pics that follow!
In summary, Hardcastle Crags: well worth a visit, bring a stout pair of shoes!
On the Thursday, Deb was working in the morning but free in the afternoon so we made plans to meet in Halifax (where she works) for lunch and an afternoon together…and then in the morning when I went to get Layla-May from her cot, having heard her stirring, I found a very solemn baby standing up saying, "Very sick, very sick," and she had been. Cleaned her up, gave her a drink – she brought that back up, as well. Slight panic: not just about our plans for the day, but going home the next day – it's a five hour journey without stops or hold-ups, there was no way we could attempt it with a vomiting baby!
Emergency plans were made, involving some people travelling home as planned and others staying with Deb and Ray at the manse for a few days and having to make alternate travel plans later, and then Layla brightened up so we decided to press on with our plans for the day .
Deb works in Halifax, so we joined her there for lunch, and then spent the afternoon at the Piece Hall, which I am now slightly in love with. The Piece Hall is a Grade I listed building, built in 1779 as a cloth hall for textile workers to sell the "pieces" they had produced, with 315 separate rooms arranged around a central open courtyard – designed in this way to prevent spread of fire. It was the largest and most prestigious cloth market ever built in this country and is the only one of its kind still standing; it has just been redeveloped and opened again this summer just past as a centre of trade, culture and heritage – there's a little museum, and a whole bunch of little cafés and boutiques. Plus, it's really beautiful!
(Not my pics, I forgot to get the camera out while we were there)
After being fine all afternoon, Layla was sick again in the evening. I was meant to be cooking, but all she wanted was 'auntie doh', so in the end I had to let someone else take over while I just sat and cwtched her all evening, and we worried all over again about the journey home with a sick baby, but by Friday she seemed okay – off her food, but well enough to travel. So off we set on our travels…which, thanks to two crashes on the M6 and roadworks on the M4, seemed to last forever. Got home…and Mum and Chelsea promptly came down with Layla's 24-hour sickness bug!
Thankfully I remained immune throughout, despite all the babysitting of sick people.
And that was the story of my holibobs!
The removal company they used, by the way, were horrifically awful, in case anyone else out there ever considers using them – Orange Movers supposedly transport goods for Sotherby's, but on this performance it's hard to see how. They either lost or damaged about £4k worth of furniture and belongings, some of the items completely irreplaceable! Horrendous performance. The claim against them is still going through.
But back to the holiday. It being such an upheaval, and Deb being so concerned about moving even further away than she already was, we decided as a family to go up and visit them in their new home for the next five years – the house we booked for the week was in the village of Golcar near Huddersfield, about half an hour away from Deb and Ray's new place: close enough to do stuff together, but far enough away not to be on top of them.
South Wales to West Yorkshire? It's quite a journey, 224 miles. We travelled all day on the Friday, arriving around teatime, whereupon Deb and Ray descended upon us with food. The house we'd rented was gorgeous, sitting high on the hillside with this view across the valley:
That was the view from the garden – complete with comfy outside seating area for late night lounging. This is the view from the attic dormer window:
Not a bad view to wake up to, no?
It was a pretty low-key holiday, by our standards – we didn't do half as much sightseeing as we normally do, for a variety of reasons to do with weather and toddler and dog and fitting in around Deb and Ray's schedule, to spend as much time with them as their work would allow. On the Saturday we visited their new home at the manse, which is lovely…but very Rural Small Town. By 4.30pm everything in town was already closed, which us city folk are just not used to at all! We found a nice little park to walk around, though. On the Sunday morning we went to a service at Ray's new church, to see him in action as minister for the first time, and then afterward…it all kind of got a bit late to do much else, because Deb had promised us Sunday lunch at her place, changed her mind at the last minute and decided to bring it to us because we had a bigger house, got delayed, arrived very late with the meal only half prepared…and by the time we'd eaten, that was pretty much the day gone.
A group of us did, however, make it out of the house late in the afternoon to visit Blackmoorfoot Reservoir across the other side of the valley, which was really pretty:
Although the walk did involve crossing a little bridge, which is always a slight problem because little dog Ruby really hates bridges – this is her refusing to put so much as a toe on the bridge.
She has to be picked up and carried across, silly thing!
More pretty reservoir pics
The Monday was…a bit of an odd one. It started with Deb trying to find a way for her and Ray to spend time with us, which was fair enough. His church, she told us, runs a little café once a month – they get food donated by big supermarkets, end of shelf life, so the menu is always made up of whatever they are given, usually a lot of soup and toasties, but the prices are low and the company good, so if we came to the church for lunch, she and Ray would be able to come out with us for the afternoon afterward. That sounded reasonable. Then she suggested going for a walk at a waterfall they'd discovered – dog-friendly, pushchair friendly, it sounded good. But we had three cars, so needed to make sure of the destination.
What's the post code, I asked. "Oh, just google Aysgarth Falls," said Deb. She spelled the name for me, and everything. Ray had a leaflet, but there was no post code on it. "It's the Grassington Trail," he said. So, Aysgarth Falls, Grassington Trail. That sounded fair enough, lots of National Park destinations have multiple car parks and routes. We googled Aysgarth Falls, got the post code, set off…but the ETA was concerning me, it seemed a lot further than Deb had said. So I texted my mum in their car – and was reassured that they had the same ETA. Deb had just got confused about the distance, we thought. It seemed to take ages to get anywhere in Yorkshire because it's so rural and hilly – lots of narrow winding roads and hairpin bends with only a crumbling dry stone wall between you and a sheer drop – and, you know, we're used to hills and mountains in South Wales, but our roads seem slightly more easily navigable!
We arrived at Aysgarth Falls. Mum and Dad's car arrived at Aysgarth Falls. No sign of Deb and Ray. Yes, you guessed it: Aysgarth Falls and Grassington Trail = two completely different places. Thanks for the mixed messages and vague directions, Deb and Ray! So now everyone was tired and cross, and we had to hang around the shop and coffee shop until Deb and Ray eventually reached us – which was pretty much as the shop and coffee shop closed and rain was beginning to threaten, after a more or less dry day.
But after this chapter of accidents, we did manage to spend a bit of time exploring the waterfalls, and Layla-May got to splash in a stream, which is her favourite thing in the world.
On Tuesday we split into two groups – some stayed at home, while a group of us headed to Alton Towers for the day. A bit of a long drive, but much easier to get to from Golcar than Cardiff! We drove pretty much right through the heart of the Peak District National Park, which is stunning. This was the view along the road:
Glorious.
At Alton Towers, we spent most of the day in Cbeebies Land, where Layla-May had pretty much the most exciting and magical day of her life to date. She got to drive Postman Pat's van – really, Postman Pat's van! (Her words) That was the highlight of her holiday. She also rode in Iggle-Piggle's boat through the Night Garden, visited Mr Tumble's sensory garden, and met both Tree-Fu Tom and Duggee.
(I realise that most of the above paragraph is so much gibberish to anyone who doesn't follow children's TV, just go with it)
Later, while Layla was napping, Ian and Chelsea went off to squeeze in a few of the big rides while Mum and I wandered around the gardens with the pushchair (at least, part of the gardens - most of them not very pushchair friendly!)
On the Wednesday, we realised just how hard it is to find things to do in the West Yorkshire area that are both dog-friendly and pushchair friendly, don't involve hiking across dales and moors in bad weather, and are less than a two-hour drive to reach! Seriously. If you are looking for a nice rural, remote getaway that is miles from anywhere, Golcar in West Yorkshire is the place to go!
Anyway, we eventually settled on Hardcastle Crags, a National Trust site including a mill and café.
The café and mill describe themselves as 'off-grid', so everything was a bit…rustic, shall we say, but the place was beautiful, well worth the visit. Not quite as pushchair friendly as advertised, but we managed. The footpath up from the car park was beautifully pushchair friendly – although Layla-May walked that section – and then after lunch at the café, we decided to wander further up-river to see how far we could get with the pushchair. The answer was: not far! But we did find more waterfalls:
Then after a certain point, the pushchair could go no further:
So we split into two groups: some stayed on the lower trail with the pushchair, while some of us continued on up the trail, which was absolutely gorgeous - I make no apology for the number of pics that follow!
In summary, Hardcastle Crags: well worth a visit, bring a stout pair of shoes!
On the Thursday, Deb was working in the morning but free in the afternoon so we made plans to meet in Halifax (where she works) for lunch and an afternoon together…and then in the morning when I went to get Layla-May from her cot, having heard her stirring, I found a very solemn baby standing up saying, "Very sick, very sick," and she had been. Cleaned her up, gave her a drink – she brought that back up, as well. Slight panic: not just about our plans for the day, but going home the next day – it's a five hour journey without stops or hold-ups, there was no way we could attempt it with a vomiting baby!
Emergency plans were made, involving some people travelling home as planned and others staying with Deb and Ray at the manse for a few days and having to make alternate travel plans later, and then Layla brightened up so we decided to press on with our plans for the day .
Deb works in Halifax, so we joined her there for lunch, and then spent the afternoon at the Piece Hall, which I am now slightly in love with. The Piece Hall is a Grade I listed building, built in 1779 as a cloth hall for textile workers to sell the "pieces" they had produced, with 315 separate rooms arranged around a central open courtyard – designed in this way to prevent spread of fire. It was the largest and most prestigious cloth market ever built in this country and is the only one of its kind still standing; it has just been redeveloped and opened again this summer just past as a centre of trade, culture and heritage – there's a little museum, and a whole bunch of little cafés and boutiques. Plus, it's really beautiful!
(Not my pics, I forgot to get the camera out while we were there)
After being fine all afternoon, Layla was sick again in the evening. I was meant to be cooking, but all she wanted was 'auntie doh', so in the end I had to let someone else take over while I just sat and cwtched her all evening, and we worried all over again about the journey home with a sick baby, but by Friday she seemed okay – off her food, but well enough to travel. So off we set on our travels…which, thanks to two crashes on the M6 and roadworks on the M4, seemed to last forever. Got home…and Mum and Chelsea promptly came down with Layla's 24-hour sickness bug!
Thankfully I remained immune throughout, despite all the babysitting of sick people.
And that was the story of my holibobs!
no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 01:39 am (UTC)Have Martin Shaw to thank for PEAK DISTRICT ... some article in a magazine when he was still doing The Professionals or around that time.
Ruby is so funny ... wonder if she had a bad experience with a wobbly plank or something given her fear of bridges or is just like me ... does not like heights.
Beautiful waterfalls, lovely scenery.
Thanks for sharing.